To Lay Down One's Life
by Kitty O
Summary: Arthur is injured by a wild animal, and Merlin is determined to save him even if it means running the risk of being condemned or killed. A life for a life; will it come down to that? No slash, yes angst. Threeshot. Deathfic.
1. Beginning

**A/N: No slash as usual. Since I'm currently working on/thinking about other chapter stories, as well as a oneshot and a little (whumpy) story that may be a threeshot, this isn't going to be something that takes dreadfully long. It'll just be another chapter or two. Quick fun side story. My reason for it? Merlin season 1 marathon (Le Morte d'Arthur!) and two o'clock in the morning. **

* * *

><p>"You can't," Gaius said, staring at Merlin with an expression of horror on his face.<p>

"Because I've never risked my life for Arthur before?" It was a joke, but Merlin knew it wasn't funny. Risked his life, yes; Merlin had risked life, limb, and peace of mind to keep that prat safe. He'd even gone so far as to try to trade his life for Arthur's—though that had gotten extremely messed up, and somehow Arthur ended up with Hunith's life, Hunith got Gaius's, and Gaius got Nimueh's… Merlin's life had technically not been involved in the juggling, not for lack of trying. So yes, Merlin had risked his life for Arthur's before. But this was different, because Arthur would be the one who would take Merlin's life this time.

Merlin didn't doubt it would end badly if he tried to be a hero. Arthur had recently entered into another fit of "all who use magic are evil, no exceptions", mostly thanks to Morgause. So Merlin didn't doubt that if Arthur discovered Merlin's magic, their years of friendship would be nothing next to Arthur's rage. He would turn the warlock in… assuming Uther didn't figure it out. And it would be hard not to figure it out.

It was kind of fitting, actually; a life for a life and all that.

_Nimueh would approve._

…_Okay, maybe not. _

But Merlin had found the spell in his book, so easy that even someone as hopeless at healing spells as Merlin could do it. He knew he had to jump at this chance. He just couldn't turn it down. Sure, it would hurt when Arthur ordered the guards to take him away, just like it always hurt…

_But it would hurt worse to let_ _Arthur die when I could help him. _

_Maybe. _

It didn't matter. If destiny had cared what path would hurt Merlin the least, he wouldn't have been put in charge of babysitting a magic-hating prat with a tendency to attract danger.

So Merlin pushed past Gaius, shaking his head and trying to ignore the feelings screaming at him to rethink this, trying to disregard the tightening of his chest.

He walked out of the physician's chambers and down the halls of the castle, and no one stopped him. His determined gait and solemn face must have scared off all his usually talkative friends, but Merlin didn't care. He opened the door to Arthur's chambers without knocking, not bothering to keep his footsteps quiet like usual. Walking in like he owned the place, Merlin approached Arthur's bed, where Gwen was hovering over an unconscious Arthur.

"Gwen," he said politely but firmly, "please move."

She stood up, her face creased in confusion, and stepped to the side. Merlin silently took her place, sitting down on the bed and looking at Arthur—sweating, bandaged, injured, completely immobile. Sighing, he reached out and touched Arthur's hand; the spell worked better with physical contact.

"_Gwella,"_ he said, and his eyes shone gold.

Merlin was barely aware of hearing Gwen gasp as magic began to fill him up and then spill out.

**TBC**


	2. Middle

**A/N: Took me a bit to decide how I wanted to end this. I really shouldn't post things in the wee hours of the morning, and I'm sorry. Hopefully this is less cliché… And character death warning. This is now a threeshot. Review?**

* * *

><p>Merlin sighed as the spell finished and his eyes turned back to blue. Gwen, he noticed, was still standing there with her hand over her mouth and her eyes the size of saucers. Feeling a little dizzy after the magic, Merlin gestured to Arthur as he rubbed his own forehead tiredly.<p>

"Look, he's healed."

Gwen blinked once, and then seemed to turn from a statue into a human. She immediately stepped forward and leaned over Arthur, checking his bare, bloody abdomen where the claws of the monster had stabbed him on the hunting trip.

"Merlin," she said in a whisper, "he's the same."

Merlin's head jerked up from his hands. "What?"

"He's still d-dying." Gwen tried not to choke over the word, staring at Merlin with complete confusion. Whatever Merlin had done – she was loathe to think the word _magic_ – had not affected Arthur for good or ill. Then what had he done it for?

Merlin was almost as surprised as Gwen, but then he saw Arthur's still face and cursed. The book had warned that this might happen, and he had a back up spell. He'd just hoped he wouldn't have to use it. He'd hoped that Arthur would just wake up and arrest him, but then (perhaps) Merlin would find a way to escape, and destiny (perhaps) wouldn't be thrown off _completely_.

It looked like he would have to use the back up plan.

_Nimueh, this is all your fault. You and your 'life for a life.' _

But then, the dragon never said he would have to survive to see his destiny fulfilled.

"Sorry, Gwen," he said, and then pushed her gently out of the way. Holding his hand above Arthur's wound, he muttered the rest of the spell. _"Fasnach."_

His eyes flashed gold again, and this time the effect was immediate.

Gwen's mouth dropped, and her brown eyes stayed glued onto Arthur's stomach. "It's going away!" she yelped. "Merlin, you're healing him! How are you…?" She turned to Merlin, fully determined to demand when he had learned magic, but the questions dried up in her mouth when she saw him.

Merlin slid off the bed, his face completely gray. _Maybe,_ he thought as a fiery pain burst in his stomach, and he clutched at his midsection, _maybe it is better this way anyway. _At least Arthur wouldn't have a chance to condemn him.

"Merlin," she cried, jumping away from Arthur and going over to Merlin. She knelt on the ground by him, her hands shaking. "What is it? What hurts?"

"My stomach," he said, grunting and closing his eyes tightly. "It's… It's just…"

She grabbed onto his arm, the nurse that lay inside her coming to the surface, and pulled it away from his stomach to see what was wrong. His blue shirt was quickly turning red, blood starting to flow from a point in the middle of his stomach, and permeating the fabric.

Gwen gasped. "What…? Take that off, Merlin!"

He shook his head a little weakly, his eyes threatening to close. Gwen felt panic in her throat, trying to reduce her to a stuttering, crying mess. But she couldn't afford to collapse; Merlin was injured, and magic or no, he needed her to help him. She grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled up, trying to force it off without hurting him. After a moment, he helped.

There, on his pale, skinny stomach (Gwen had the off tangent thought that he needed to eat more) was a gaping, bloody wound, red liquid still spilling from it. Too much blood. Too much… It was on his trousers, on the floor, staining Arthur's bedsheets— _oh my word, oh my heavens, so much blood._ Where did it come from?

She shot one disbelieving look at Arthur, not even realizing that he was beginning to wake up, and then she saw it.

_Merlin, _she moaned in her head, _what did you _do_? _

"Gwen," he said, groaning with the pain, "when Arthur wakes up, tell him that..." He coughed; there was blood on his lips. Gwen's heart beat faster. Why? Arthur hadn't coughed. There was no blood on Arthur's mouth. Why did Merlin look like he was fading so fast, when Arthur had lasted hours…?

He was moving too much, she decided.

"Merlin, be quiet," she ordered, needing to do something. "Lie down on your back. Yes, on the floor… Come on, Merlin!"

"No… No, you need to tell him that I didn't choose…"

"What's going on?" a new voice suddenly demanded from the bed. Arthur was awake.

* * *

><p>Arthur was surprised, but not shocked, when he awoke. He'd woken up from injuries that he shouldn't have survived before, after all, but this time he couldn't even feel the wound. Arthur's hand moved to his stomach, but there was none of the usual pain when a finger touched an open sore. Where was the hole in his stomach? Did he dream that?<p>

And then he'd heard Gwen's voice, a sob behind her clear, steady words, and Merlin's answering pained mumble. A strange feeling – foreboding – ripped thorough his body, and Arthur sat up to one of the worst sights he'd ever seen: Gwen leaned over a profusely bleeding Merlin, who was lying on the floor half-naked.

"What's going on?" he spat out, quickly jumping off the bed, staring down at Merlin with wide eyes. "What happened?"

Merlin's eyes left Gwen and snapped to meet Prince Arthur's blue gaze. "Oh," he said with a weak smile. "I'll tell him myself." He tried to sit up more, but Gwen reprimanded him and forced him to lie down on his back.

She pressed his shirt to his middle, trying desperately to stop the bleeding, though she knew it was no good. Whatever spell Merlin had used – _how strange was that to think?_ – had sealed his fate. Blood was still seeping. Now it was getting on her skirt, but she would worry about cleanliness later.

"Arthur," croaked Merlin, pain causing his face to screw up.

"Gwen, what happened? What's wrong with him? I'll get Gaius!" Arthur said it all in one breath, not sure what else he could do, but horrified as he watched Merlin's life spill out of him.

"No!" snapped Merlin. "I have to tell you… I didn't choose magic. I was born with it… Protect…"

_What? _asked the part of Arthur's mind that hadn't quite caught up with the urgency of the situation. _What the hell is he talking about?_

"Oh," grumbled Merlin, his eyes drifting closed as he gave up trying to speak. "Just ask Gaius about it."

And then, before Arthur's disbelieving eyes, before anyone could fetch Gaius, Merlin's head fell back and he died.

Gwen's scream blocked out Arthur's strangled cry of, "Merlin!" But Arthur's raw throat informed him that he had definitely shouted it… Or was it raw for a different reason?

And when Uther entered the room mere moments later, it was to the sight of his previously comatose son, face ash-white, standing stunned over a sobbing, kneeling maidservant and a dead manservant. And the whole room – people, bed, ground – seemed to give the impression of having been dyed red.


	3. End

Arthur's sheets were now clean, but they didn't feel like it. He shifted in the dark, not feeling the softness of the sheets.

Uther had very little to say, seeing as the sorcerer was dead. Seeing as the sorcerer had taken the wound that was killing his son and made it his own.

_Sorcerer. _

_Merlin. _

Arthur shook his head. He accepted the truth, but it felt a little strange to try and put the two words together in his head. After his father was dealt with and servants were cleaning Merlin's and Arthur's blood from the room, Arthur supported the crying Gwen to Gaius's chambers. (He wondered briefly if he would begin to cry too, but he felt too numb to do much of anything.)

There, in the harsh light of day, voice shaking with sorrow, Gaius had torn apart everything they thought they knew about Merlin and replaced it with another Merlin, a lying, sneaking, bold, smart, _magic_, loyal, snarky, troublemaking…

Or maybe his version of Merlin wasn't all that different than their dead friend.

Gaius had cried, too, and with two people to comfort, Arthur hadn't any time for tears himself. Not just then.

Later, when he was alone in his chambers, staring at the floor where the life had left Merlin's limbs, it all caught up with him.

Merlin, the secret sorcerer, was dead.

_Dead._

Dead for Arthur.

His knees buckled, and one of the chairs around the table in his room caught him. Tears began to leak from his eyes, and he tried to hide them from the emptiness of his room by putting his face in his hands.

_No man is worth your tears. _

_Oh, shut up. _

But the tears dried. He rubbed away the evidence quickly.

Why did Merlin use magic to save him? He must've known he would die. But then, that was the kind of person Merlin was—ready to lay down his life for a friend, his master. Even a master (_friend_) who was a complete prat to him most the time. Even if he didn't trust said friend with his secret…

A warlock. A dragonlord. Merlin. Why hadn't he told Arthur any of this? Did he think Arthur would arrest him, turn him over to his father, run him through?

Yes. Yes, he did think that. That's why he hadn't said anything. Arthur knew he could ask Gaius and the medical man would deny it, would give some excuse as to why Merlin never spoke of his magic. But Arthur knew the truth would be behind that; the truth that Merlin hadn't wanted to put his life into someone else's hands. He'd wanted to control for himself whether he lived or died.

Arthur could understand that. After all, Merlin had controlled what happened to Arthur's life, had decided that Arthur wouldn't die, and Arthur didn't like the outcome. Arthur knew that he wouldn't have told Merlin, if the situations were reversed. Arthur wouldn't want him to have to share that secret.

No, what Arthur was having trouble with was the question: _would_he have arrested Merlin? If the scenario had been different, would Arthur have let Merlin die for his magic?

He wanted to say no. He wanted to say he would have protected his friend. But he didn't know that for sure. _Now_, of course, there was no doubt in his mind that Merlin wasn't evil. Evil people didn't give up their lives for their friends. Only a truly good warlock would have died to save Arthur, and so, therefore, that couldn't be as much of an oxymoron as Arthur had thought. But before today, if Merlin had told him, would Arthur have betrayed Merlin's trust?

The thought of him doing that haunted Arthur. He told himself he wouldn't have, but it didn't work. So he told himself he didn't know and it didn't matter now, but it didn't work either. It was getting in the way of his grief. He couldn't even go to Gwen or Morgana with this thought on his conscience. He couldn't miss Merlin with it in his mind.

He just didn't know.

Until that night, when he was in his now-clean bed, staring distantly at the ceiling.

If he had been faced with Merlin having magic before today, what would he have done?

He would have had two choices: save Merlin or let him die.

Which would he have chosen? Saving him would have meant that Arthur would have to lie to his father, to everyone. To rethink all his beliefs. And that would have been ridiculously hard. But letting him die… Arthur thought back to Merlin, lying bleeding on the floor, face creased in pain. That wouldn't have bad ridiculously hard; it would have been _impossible_. Arthur could not have let Merlin burn, let him get his head cut off, let him die a criminal's death. No. If he'd tried to make himself, he would have just gone _mad._

He would have saved his best friend. He suddenly knew it. There was no question about it in his mind.

Arthur fell asleep after that. It was an uneasy, fitful sleep, and he turned and cried out as he faced images of dead Merlin and grieved for his friend. But he _did_ sleep, which counted for something, and at least he_ could_ grieve.

"_No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends."_

_John 15:13_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Fin! I got that verse from the Holy Bible… New American Bible, Catholic Readers Edition. Other versions' translations might not match up entirely. Thanks for reading. Please review. **


End file.
